


Eluvian

by Drystanasaurus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ancient Elves (Dragon Age), Arlathan, Book: Dragon Age - The Masked Empire, Eluvians, Elvhen, Elvhen "Gods", Elvhen Lore, Elvhen Pantheon, Elvhenan, F/M, Fix-It, Memories, Old Gods (Dragon Age), Post-Trespasser, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9769604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drystanasaurus/pseuds/Drystanasaurus
Summary: Three years after the disbanding of the Inquisition, Former Inquisitor Lavellan is called to the Winter Palace on urgent business.





	1. Chapter 1

No grand reception welcomed Athera into the courtyard of the Winter Palace. It had been years since they had given her such an entrance. She welcomed by a footman and let through the yard to the gates of the Palais.

Athera quietly followed the man into the Grand Palais, up the stairs of the foyer and into the royal quarters. The grandeur of the Palais didn’t hit Athera like cold water in the face, not at it once had. Perhaps, being what she was, grandeur of the Palais could have shocked her if she were treated less as a regular visitor, as she was, and more like a special guest. 

She was handed off to a maid, and lead to a small, lilac sitting room. There were cakes and biscuits already set on the low table between the two settees. Athera took a seat on a low sofa and waited. In the nearly three years since the disbanding of the Inquisition, following the Exalted Council, she’d visited the Winter Palace at least six times a year. The informality of her visits was probably due to her degraded status, and her friendship with Ambassador Briala. 

"Was your trip pleasant, Lavellan?" 

Briala entered, graceful in a plain, golden yellow dress. Her face was unmasked, but even without the mask, Athera could hardly tell what the Ambassador felt. She took her seat with all the grace that her bardic training afforded her. 

"It was, Lady Briala.” 

Briala snapped her fingers and a young elf appeared by her side, "Bring tea for us please, Narila." The elf nodded, mumbling a "yes ma'am" before disappearing into a small side door towards the back of the room. 

"How have you been? We haven't seen each other in some months," Briala asked in a very diplomatic tone. 

"I have been fine. I continue to stay at Skyhold, as you know. I see that you have... perhaps taken up more permanent residence here?"

"Yes and no, I stay in Val Royeaux most of the year. As the Winter Palace has fallen out of favor with the court, I stay now to escape them.” The young elf returned with a teapot covered in runes and a pair of tea cups. She poured the tea and left. 

"The runes keep the tea warm?" Athera asked absently, Briala nodded in reply. “How clever.” 

They descended into silence both drank the tea. Neither seeming satisfied by the drink. Briala set her cup down, and now seemed ready to tell Athera why she’d been summoned to the Palais.

"We've know each other for seven years, and I feel we have somethings in common so I shall speak informally." She paused and Athera nodded, taking another sip of her bitter tea.

"Have you uncovered anything of the man that stole the eluvians from me?" 

Athera set her cup down, realizing the turn of this conversation. "No, my Lady. In fact, it has been three months since I've met with Divine Victoria, her Left Hand or with Lady Josephine."

"And what of your commander?"

"I'd never call on him,” Athera replied with a small shake of her head. “He'd give up his family and be by my side as we uncover useless lead after useless lead. It is the same with Lady Josephine, and she's just given birth."

Briala nods, of course she knows about Josephine and Cullen. Athera respected Briala, but also hated that her, for playing the Game, and playing it so well. She supposed it had been years since she herself had not played the Game anytime she’d left Skyhold. 

“As you know,” Athera said, trying hard not to be rude, “Nothing of note has been uncovered in the three years since the Inquisition disbanded and Fen’Harel disappeared.”

Briala did not miss the stiffness, and tone of her voice. “I assure you, my friend, I did not call you here to drudge up unhappy memories and frustrations.”

Athera’s eyebrows raise sarcastically, “Oh, so why have you summoned me?”

Briala smiled, “The Eluvian that we keep here, it has opened.” Athera nearly drops the teacup she plucked from the table. She looked up at the Ambassador, who smiled, knowing quite well she had her. Hook, line, and sinker. Athera was caught. 

"It opened last week, I sent for you as soon as we found it. Six guards have been placed at the entrance." 

"And... what do you expect me to do?" Trying to keep the anticipation out of her voice. 

Briala looked over her, her big eyes coming to rest on her left arm. "I see your Dwarven friend helped you find a suitable replacement for your arm." Of course, Athera was totally at Braila’s mercy now, and the Ambassador would string her along however long she wanted. She looked disdainfully down metal contraption. The dwarves had crafted something what worked, that was useful, but ugly. Extremely so. 

Athera looked back up at Briala, “Yes, but what about the Eluvian.” She was being rude, but she let Briala play with her about this. 

Briala’s smile died, “Eager, I see. Well, I want to know why it has opened, as much as you do. I have decided to set up a small party, to go into it.” 

“I can set up my own party, Ambassador, if you are asking me to be the one to explore it,” Athera said, annoyed. She was agitated; mostly that Briala had the gall not to tell her, immediately, not to have told her in the letter she’d sent her. She could have brought Varric, or Cole, someone who understood what this could mean for her.

Briala let out an astute sigh, “I will speak freely, Athera, as we've kept such good correspondence these past years, you need to get a hold of yourself. You mustn't allow Fen'Harel to destroy you. I know what it is like to be betrayed by a lover, but not even Empress Celene could destroy my resolve.”

“And now she's dead. Because of me,” Athera replied, giving Briala a small smile. 

Briala seemingly unaffected took a sip of her tea before replying, “It's for the best of the people of Orlais. All of them.” 

Athera knew the extent of Briala and Gaspard’s reformation of Orlais. With Gaspard’s militarism and Braila’s diplomacy, they were successful in they’re pursuits, if not quite as popular. 

Briala looked at Athera, studying her for a long moment, then gave a warm, genuine, smile. “I shall have you seen to your rooms, and send for you when supper is ready.”

 

Athera was set up in the same large, grand suite that she was always set up in. It was grand. A large red sitting room, her bedroom being larger and royal blue with a massive bathing room, it had entirely overwhelmed her the first time she was given this suite. Now, after asking for a bath to drawn for her, Athera took off her threw her travel cloak, boots and breeches down off the side of the bed. She let herself be engulfed by the feather mattress and pillows, her back popped and she felt as through she could sleep. 

“Your bath is ready, my Lady,” said the servant, and Elf, who was familiar with Athera and gave little notice as the former Inquisitor stood and, making her way to the bathroom, begun to strip herself. She had hated it the first time he’d tried to strip her for her, and had gradually been able to ignore his gaze. Her favorite part of stripping was the utter relief of unbuckling the leather straps of her metal arm, hearing it clink onto the tiles of the bathroom, and feeling free of heavy, uncomfortable thing.

Soon, she slid into the warm, almost too warm water of the large bath. The water was scented with rose water and lavender. Athera loved it. She could fell her muscles loosening, old aches being ebbed away with the consuming warmth of the bath. 

She heard another set of footsteps on the tiles as another servant enters. “I'm very sorry for the intrusion, ma'am. But Lady Briala sends her utmost apologies, but she had to return to Val Royeaux as quickly as possible. An attempt was made upon the Emperor’s life.”

Athera was surprised, “Does she wish me to come?” 

“No, ma’am, she as already left,” replied the servant. “We will still serve you supper, Briala has told us to show you every hospitality. Would you take it in your room or perhaps in one of the small parlors?”

“My room, thank you.” She replies dryly, and dismisses the servant. Athera slips back down into the comforting warmth of the bath, but found it not as all consuming as she’d thought. With in fifteen minutes she left the bath, pulling a robe over herself and going to redress in the bedroom.

_Briala wouldn’t have left in such a hurry if Gaspard were all right_ , Athera thought. _He must be injured or…_

Athera bit on her lip nervously. She had to hope for the best. Her position to maintain Skyhold for the purpose of finding Fen’Harel, to freely visit the College of Mages, to travel freely to most of the world; it was all in part due to the diplomacy of Gaspard and Briala. Without Gaspard, Briala looses her standing, her power, and the elves of Orlais loose their protector. 

She was brought out of her thoughts as the servant announced her dinner. She tugged on a linen shirt and some breeches and went into the sitting room. The dinner prepared for her was extravagant. Druffalo, with some sort of sauce, a vegetable she didn’t know, rice, a bottle of wine she’d said she’d favored on her last visit, and cake and fruit waiting as her desert. 

Athera hardly finished half of her dinner. A few bites of the druffalo steak, a few bites of the vegetables and rice, a bite of cake, a sip of wine. She asked for water, and retired to her bedroom. 

Once again she let herself be engulfed by the comfortable mattress, and soon found herself drifting to sleep. 

 

Athera woke with a start. Her room was dark, and she sat up, fully alert. There wasn’t any sound or movement, but she could feel her neck prickle. She slipped from bed and stumbled to find a candle. She lit it and went to find her prosthetic arm and her armour. It took longer to put both on without anyone’s help, and the darkness and constant pricking of her neck didn’t help. 

Once she’d slipped into boots, she left her room. Athera felt an unusual pull on her mana and concentrated on that. She could feel the press of the Veil, but a much closer pull, drawing her out, almost calling to her. She didn’t hesitate to follow it. 

She walked through the very empty Palais. She couldn’t help but wonder where the servants were. Athera had never been out in the Palais this late, and the darkened corridors disturbed her. Not even the moon was out to give her light. The candle’s light didn’t help much, and the shadows it produced added some amount of anxiety. 

Finally, she was out of wing she was staying. She descended the marble steps into the foyer. Her boots sounded loud against the marble and silence of the place. Athera picked up her pace, feeling the pull on her heighten, as her want to get out of the darkened, empty Palais. 

As she walked down the grand staircase, she stopped short. The front doors stood ajar without guards or servants. She drew magic to her right hand, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach telling her not to go. 

“Where are the guards…” Athera said in a nervous whisper. The pull on her mana doubled again, and she knew she’d have to leave. With a glance around, looking for guards, or servants, or anyone and finding no one, left the darkened Palais. 

Athera instinctively walked towards the storage room under the western balcony and pushed the door open. The bodies of the six guards, plus two more, lay in heaps on ground of the room. The light of the eluvian spilled over their forms eerily. Athera stepped into the room, not without apprehension. She cloaked herself in a barrier, and knelt down beside one of the men. To her surprise, she was alive. She quickly checked the rest, finding them all alive. They looked to have just fallen down, unconscious. That baffled and unnerved her. 

She looked up at the eluvian, it shown brightly, as if pleading its innocence. Athera blew out her candle. Looking over the guards, she noticed one had been a mage. She took his staff, and weighed it in her hands. 

She’d left her best weapons and armour back at Skyhold. She felt a pang, looking down out this weapon in her hands. She’d left everything back at Skyhold. 

Skyhold, which maintained just barely twenty servants now, a sorry husk of what it had been. She thought of Sera and Cole, both who waited for her return. Back at Skyhold she waited for news of Josephine and her baby. She waited for Varric’s next letter about progress of his book. Perhaps she’d get a note from Bull from wherever he was. She waited for her next conversation with Dorian thought their sending crystal. 

And of course the constant, agonizing wait for news on Fen'Harel. How many leads had she investigated, only to come up short? The frustration she felt always weighed heavy on her mind there. With each dead end she felt her uselessness increase. How many times she’d cursed Skyhold itself, a gift _he_ had given the Inquisition, a gift _he_ had given her. 

At Skyhold, Athera could only wait. 

She grabbed short sword from guard, grabbed a lighter cloak from another, and turned to face the eluvian. It hummed, pulling her mana, calling her to it. She accepted its call, and with a few short strides, stepped into the eluvian.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't made this clear before, but there are spoilers for both the Trespasser DLC and the Masked Empire.

The feeling of passing through the eluvian took Athera’s breath away. The Crossroads looked nothing like it had from her previous encounters with it. She looked around; no other eluvians were in sight. Only a long, stone path led into the distance. Despite the pleasantness of this place, a well of doubt rose up in her. She turned back at the eluvian, only to find it sealing itself up. 

Athera touched the warm, molten glass surface of the eluvian. It vibrated under her fingertips with its ancient magic. It was comforting, and her feelings of doubt and apprehension dissipated somewhat. 

“Why did you close?” She asked it before she could stop herself. In the second it took her to withdrawal her hand from the glass she felt a tiny surge of vibration from the glass. The vibration reverberated up through her arm and into her chest. Athera looked up at the eluvian, perplexed but oddly optimistic. She turned from the eluvian towards the vast, serenely empty Crossroads and started to walk. 

She was at the top of a “hill” in seemingly three steps. Looking back, Athera found she must’ve been at least thirty years from the eluvian. Had it been like this before? She started forward again, loosening her prosthetic while trying to recall the sensations she had felt then. There was a vague memory of Dorian, commenting on how the sky hurt his eyes, and Varric feeling slightly lightheaded. Neither feeling could she understand. This place was light, uplifting and radiating magic. 

Briala had told her something similar, however. During her time along the Crossroads she’d felt elated, but Celene and Gaspard had been agitated and disoriented by the place. 

_Briala… would she have joined me_ , she wondered. Briala seemed to have fond memories of her time in the Crossroads, despite it having led to her estrangement with Celene. The first time Briala had recounted her tale to Athera, it had been just six months after Corypheus had been killed, and Fen’Harel had disappeared. 

An invitation to Lady Briala’s personal estate in Halamshiral had been a bitter honor. Despite the Inquisition goal being complete, Athera had had as much work and travel as she had when her foe had been alive. Going around Orlais and Fereldan closing rifts that hadn’t been on her initial visits became her chief objective. This seemed to weigh on Gaspard’s nobles, who complained about her Inquisition more than ever, and in turn strained her relationship with Orlais. 

Then Briala stepped in. Gaspard, Athera and the Inquisition’s Council had been invited to the Lady’s estate, and all had been taken care of. And, unexpectedly, over a private dinner Athera and the Ambassador became more intimate. 

Briala had been the one to first bring up Celene. They spoke of the night she died and Briala’s feelings about it. They spoke of her friend, Felassan, and his disappearance. And soon Athera was speaking of Fen’Harel, who at the time she only knew as Solas. She told the Ambassador what had happened in Crestwood, how awkward it had been after, and how she distraught she was. The Ambassador had been quiet interested to know about how Fen’Harel had taken her Vallaslin. And Athera recounted it all in detail. 

Then she told her of the search Leliana had helped mobilized for him. They had searched throughout Orlais and Fereldan; Athera was convinced he wouldn’t go north. They had searched old temples, ruins and even into the Arbor Wilds, all in vein. Briala listened to all of this with interest and almost comforted her on her loss. But soon, as the months had worn on and no information on Fen’Harel had surfaced, Briala had been the first to tell her to move on. Athera didn’t know how, but she and Briala had become good friends in the matter of months, and now she did wish the Ambassador was with her. 

Athera tipped on an uneven stone, stumbled, but didn’t fall. She was snapped back to where she was. She looked back to where she’d come, and with a shock couldn’t see the eluvian. It hadn’t been like this the last time she had come. Realizing she couldn’t just go back now, she turned to start forward again. A new eluvian waited for her, fifty yards in front, shimmering brightly in the distance. A bite of apprehension made her pause as this too. But she had no choice other than to follow the road laid out for her. 

If felt like barely fifteen minutes before she was stepping close to this new eluvian. Athera pulled her staff out, it still weighted strangely in her hand, its unfamiliarity with her was apparent too. It sparked and the wood creaked with its agitated vibration. It was a strong staff, she wouldn’t expect nothing less of a Palace guard, but it wasn’t as strong as her staff. She doubted it could handle a full surge of her mana. She would have to be careful. 

Athera sighed, looking at the eluvian, “I suppose it won’t due to wait?” Her voice was loud in the silence of this place. And she wondered for the first time how long she had been here, walking and lost in her thoughts. She needed to leave. She turned and walked through the eluvian.

 

She knew where she was. Quickly, she stepped back and turned, but the eluvian was already sealing itself. It was trapping her here. This time there was no admiration in her as she stared at its golden glass. She was trying to control her breathing. _In and out_ , she repeated to herself, over and over. Athera placed a shaking hand on the frame of the eluvian for support. _In and out_ , _in and out_ … 

A lake spilled over, forming a small marsh. A statue of a wolf, _the_ stood proud, looking over this small valley. And up on the hill behind it, another eluvian. This wasn’t where she had last seen Fen’Harel, but it was enough to stop her, she call up those memories. Athera closed her eyes, rubbed a small circle into her right temple. She could hardly breath, and she could feel tears forming of their own accord. 

_How does this effect me so much?_ She thought, sinking to her feet. 

The memories burned her, beckoning her to indulge in them for what must have been the thousandth time. Athera clenched the part of her left arm, the part she could feel. She indulged that desire, and remembering with new vividity the last time she had seen Solas.

 

_The kiss was light, gentle, but Athera felt tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to cling to him, to him still. She wanted to grasp him so as to never let him leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of her deadening left arm. The moment Solas’s lips left hers, the throbbing pain of her arm increased tenfold._

_“I will never forget you,” He said, standing. Athera looked up at him, wishing nothing more than to pull him back to her._

_“Solas, Solas please!” He dared one last glance at her, and seeing her pleading, pained expression felt his heart break._

_“I looked for you everywhere, vhenan, please don’t leave me,” Athera said through clenched teeth. She tried to can’t but throbs of pain stopped her, and she stumbled forwards. “Please,” She said quietly, clutching her left arm to her chest._

_“I cannot,” He replied, solemnly._

_“You can,” she said, but she could hear his footsteps. He walked towards the eluvian. “Solas! Please!” She yelled again, “Stop!” It was useless. He was gone. She stared at the eluvian. Watching it seal itself back into a beautiful golden mirror. The pain surged through her with renewed conviction and she nearly screamed._

_She fell to the side, clenching desperately at her arm in a vain tempt to ease the pain. She cried. Her breaths hitching loudly, nearly wailing as sobs shook her body. The only thing in her mind though was the thought: I am stupid._

_She heard the sound of running, and realized it was Dorian._

_“Athera! He shouted, seeing her on the ground. He dropped to her side and putting her close to him. His nimble hands worked at her sleeve to assess the damage. She turned her face from him, tears still freely flowing, ashamed. Bull and Varric were soon at her side as well. As soon as Dorian was able to calm the pain in her arm to the best of his ability, Iron Bull lifted Athera into his strong arms. She protested but fell silent at his hushing._

_Her dead arm lay useless in her lap; her right was strung over Bull’s neck. She looked back, crying soundlessly as they made their way back through the numerous eluvians. She could hear the splashing of water with each of Bull’s steps. She looked, and saw the large, stone monument to Fen’Harel. She turned her head into the crook of Bull’s neck._

_Her final walk through the Eluvians and the Crossroads wasn’t even on her own feet._

 

That was so long ago now, like a dream. She shamefully whipped her tears away. How stupid she had been. How stupid she probably was now. What would Dorian say once he found out what she had done. Or.. would they find out? She left no note, nothing to tell them were she was going. 

_Briala_ , she remembered, _She would tell them where I have gone._

Athera realized now, sitting here, how stupid she had been to come here. She had no food, barely any armour, and no idea where she was or where she was going.

“Stupid,” She hissed, “I’m so fucking stupid.” She stood up, again whipping her face. 

“Well… that is accurate actually. Would you, perhaps, be in _want_ of some help?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely long wait. OC is gonna play a major part of this story, so I hope you like him so far.

Athera cast a strong barrier immediately, but stumbled to a knee as she turned quickly back to look at the stranger. He sat on a stood in front the Eluvian, like a guard as though to keep her from passing. He grinned at her as she stumbled, but said nothing, as though to allow Athera to compose herself. 

The man was tall and had delicate features. He had deep brown hair and olive skin, not dissimilar of Dorian or his father. His eyes were bright brown, almost amber, that Athera could see from her place ten feet away from him. Those eyes made her uneasy, but not as much as the armour did. Imagines of the beautiful armour she had found in the Dales passed through her mind. Ancient and powerful, Athera felt nearly a queen when she wore the armour; it was so precious to her and her people, their heritage. And yet, this human stood before her clad in the most beautiful armour she’d since her meeting with Fen’Harel. The meant he must very slim to be clad in Elven armour as he was, but she didn’t get that impression of him. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his grin dying down. “The great Lady Inquisitor, so good to meet you.” He bowed, his hair slightly flopping forward.

Athera bit her lip, her grip on her staff tightened, “You know me? How are you here?” 

“Know you? Of course I know you, I brought you here,” He forced a laugh. He leaned back, leaning against the eluvian. “And how am I here? That’s rather easy. I know three of the passwords your dearest uses for the eluvians.” He pushed off the eluvian, taking a step forward. Athera raised her staff immediately, frost rolling from the staff’s tip. He raised his slightly in surrender, a genuinely amused expression playing on his face. “Don’t worry, Lady Inquisitor, I have every intention of telling you, but please don’t going attacking me before I do. I have no intention of attacking you, so if you do so to me well… You’ll just be the aggressor.” 

Athera twisted her face, confused and feeling insulted. “Who are you,” She hissed. 

The man smiled more and more, clearly finding this funny. “To tell you the truth, Lady Inqusitior, I thought you might perhaps drop everything and beg me for the passwords.” 

Athera merely glared at him and repeated, “Who are you?”

Letting out a disheartened sigh, the man slouched back against the eluvian. “Well I know your name, I would figure you might at least have a club of mine.”

“What do you mean,” She replied.

With dissatisfied sigh, he folded, sliding down to base of the eluvian, his legs crisscrossed. “And I’d thought you’d spent sometime with spirits? Did Compassion not tell you of his brethren?”

“You’re a spirit,” Athera said wearily, “You don’t look like one. You don’t act like one. How could you be here, like that, the only spirits I’ve know to look like you have been demons, and Cole.” 

The man laughed, “Demons and Cole? You are so kind to your friends aren’t you? Cole? That is what you called compassion, yes? Poor, poor compassion. He must hate this world. I would say though, I am a bit like ‘Cole’.” 

Athera stared at him, confused and annoyed, “You’re nothing like him.”

“I am a spirit, that is one way I am like him,” He replied with a laugh.

Athera scoffed, “You’re a spirit of Pride then, you see so sure of yourself and yet you’ve given nothing but you’re word to go on.” 

The spirit tsked, “You wound me, Lady Inquisitor.” Athera took step forward, and lower her staff slightly. She couldn’t believe she was having a conversation like this here, in the Crossroads. The spirit merely smiled back at her, almost taunting her in a way.

Then, her magic wavered. It had been years since had had to hold up such a strong barrier for such a time, and it went down for only a moment. That was all it took. The man was there, beside her, and his hand clenched down on her arm. Athera had only a second to notice how cold, how soft his hand was. How it reminded her of Cole’s touch.

 

Solas led Athera through Haven, and despite the usual chill, she found it was quite pleasant. Her eyes passed over Varric’s tent, and down the lane towards Frissa’s place. She wondered what he wanted to show her. 

“Why here?” She asked.

“Haven is familiar, it will always be important to you,” Solas replied.

Athera glanced around then shook her head, “Only for what it made me.” 

“Haven _made_ you? I highly doubt that. You are entirely singular of your own making.” Athera smiled at that. She followed him into the Chantry and down into the cellars.

“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the anchor,” He said, stopping in front of the area where Athera had first woken with Cassandra and Leliana staring down at her. 

“I… Thank you for watching over me.” 

“You were a mystery,” Athera looked away as Solas turned his gaze to her, “And still are. I ran every test I could imagine, and still nothing. Cassandra threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”

Athera couldn’t repress a small smile. “Cassandra’s like that with everyone.” 

Solas chuckled, “Yes. Come, walk with me.” She followed him back up into the Chantry and out into the courtyard, saying nothing. He seemed to be mulling over something, but then again he was always mulling over something. She liked that about him, the fact his mind never stopped moving towards the answers he wanted.

He stopped, and turned his face towards the sky. “You were never going to wake up, a mortal sent through the fade? I was frustrated, and had no faith in Cassandra. I was ready to flee.” 

“Where to? The Breach threatened the whole world,” She stopped beside him, guessing at what he was trying to get at. 

“Someplace far away, where I could research more before the effects of the Breach reached me,” He paused looking back at her, smiling softly, “I never said it was a good plan.” 

He turned away from Athera again, training his eyes on something far in the distance, visibly unsettled at some thought or idea that had come to him.

“I told myself: one more attempt at sealing the rifts. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic could affect the rifts. I resigned myself to flee but then…” He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation,” Solas turned back to Athera. “You sealed the rift with a gesture, and right then I felt the whole world change.”

A jolt of excitement hit Athera at his words, “Felt the whole world change?” 

“A figure of speech,” Solas’ tone was dismissive, but his eyes lingered a moment too long. 

Athera couldn’t keep herself from smiling slightly, “I was more interested in ‘felt’.”

Solas’ eyes were fixed on hers now, and she tried to catch any indication that he was feeling what she was. His lips parted for a moment and then closed, she could almost see him churning over his thoughts. 

“You change… everything.” He finally said. Another burst of excitement filled her, and she watched as his grey eyes flicked down to her lips. 

Before Athera could stop herself, her fingers had caught him and guided his lips to hers. It was the bravest thing she had done in such a context, and she realized how rash and selfish she was as she felt his soft lips against her. She wrenched herself away, her face flaring red with embarrassment. She started to turn, to run, but he stopped her. He pulled her back and kissed her fiercely. He held her in his arms and she knew she hadn’t been happier in years. 

 

And then she wasn’t there anymore. She couldn’t feel Solas against her anymore, or cool air of Haven. She couldn’t tell what she was seeing or feeling. The world spun around her mercilessly, until she utterly yielded to its flow.

 

“Odd to find you here,” Though her tone was sarcastic, she wasn’t at all surprised to find Fen’Harel in her bedchamber. The wolf sat in an angry hunch at the back of her room, lacking in his usual adornments of pelts and cloaks and gold shiny things. She couldn’t help but smile. 

“Elgar‘nan means to put a law into action that allows any master to kill a slave without trial if he is wronged him.” He sounded utterly beaten. His eyes met Athera’s and she knew what he wanted to do. 

“Why does he wish to do that? What are you going to ask Mythal to do?” 

A flicker of annoyance at Mythal’s mention passed over his features, “He says that because of the unrest, slaves must be kept on a tighter leash.” 

Athera scoffed, “Because slaves are joining Falon’Din and Anduil? Hardly.” 

Fen’Harel’s exasperated face met hers, “You weren’t at the council and yet they still voted. Three to two.” 

“Falon’Din and Andruil weren’t present either,” She asked. 

Fen’Harel shook his head, “They wouldn’t have changed the outcome.”

“You and Mythal were against it,” Athera paused, looking away from him, “That means… June voted with his wife for the law?” 

“Of course,” Fen’Harel hissed. “Of course he did.” He buried his head in his hands in defeat and frustration. Athera felt bad for him, after all he had worked for, Elgar’nan was pushing back to what it was like a millennia ago. 

Athera closed her eyes, feeling fatigued as well. “Must we talk of politics every time we’re together? We used to be such great friends,” She moved off her seat, kneeling beside the wolf. She pried his hands away from his face. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. He looked exhausted. She kissed him once on the forehead, and then stood, pulling him up with her. 

“Come to Sun’s Eye, you need rest. Only a few weeks, it would do you good.” She searched his face, hoping to he would agree to her proposal, but he took a step back and firmly seated himself back in his original position. Athera turned from him, slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t even bother with an answer. “Wine?” She asked as she moved away, padding across the floor to a small sitting table with a beautiful decanter and set of glasses. She began pouring herself a glass.

“Sylaise is pregnant.” 

Athera nearly dropped the decanter. He had meant it to be a sting, and so it did. 

“Did June not tell you?” 

Athera finished pouring her glass, and promptly downed it. After taking a moment to compose herself, she poured two glasses and walked back to sit with him. “I have faith it will be a beautiful child,” She said, handing him the glass. 

“That’s all?” He asked, taking the glass from her only to set it down at the table beside him.

“I know. And honestly I am surprised that June wouldn’t tell me,” Athera replied truthfully. She turned away from him then, biting on her lip, wondering if there would be any better time to pose her question to him. June not telling her of Sylaise’s pregnancy was a shock, but he wasn’t under her influence anymore. He was Sylaise and her mother’s now, and Athera knew that to be one of the safest places for him. 

She looked back to Fen’Harel; his eyes were trained on something far into the distance of Arlathan. She could almost feel his distaste of this place. He knew he wasn’t safe here. No one was. Athera wanted to be safe.

“Solas.”

His head snapped around to look at her, his look askance. 

Athera smiled softly, apologetically, back at him. She moved closer to him, their knees just touching. He was restless beside her, he was always so eager to make the next move. Then again, that was something they shared. 

“Solas, marry me.” 

Solas looked at her, shocked. He was on his feet and on the other side on the room in a step. Athera followed him. She put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off. 

“Solas, we could do anything we wanted,” She started, “We could-“

“What’s your plan then? What do you want from this?” He nearly snapped. Athera moved away from him, back to the decanter, watching as he paced from on side of her room to the other. “You want to use me.” 

“No, Solas, I want security, as do you. Marry me, and Mythal and Elgar’nan wouldn’t think to threaten us the way they have ever again.”

Solas scoffed, “If I married you, Mythal and Elgar’nan, Dirthamen, Sylaise, Anduil, Falon’Din- they would all see it as an affront to their power. Fuck, if you haven’t seen recently, June is firmly with them as well. When’s the last time he openly supported you on the Council? Do you want to start a war?” 

“We wouldn’t be starting a war. We’d send a message. We would have more power, more respect, and wouldn’t be seen as the two outsiders. We would have each other, Solas, but more than we ever have before.” 

“You want power,” He hissed, glaring at her.

“No,” she replied, trying to sound patient. “I want security, I want someone to have my back, and I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

His glare softened at her word. He came towards her, leading her to sit by him at her window. Athera offered her glass to him. Solas stared down at it, churning his thoughts. He finally lifted the glass to his lips and drank.

When he finished he, he trained his eyes on hers. His grey eyes were tired, but confident and proud as they had always been. She lifted a hand to his face, brushing her fingers against his soft lips, up his cheek, and down to rest at his jaw. He leaned forward, and kissed her forehead.

“Laisa…”

Goosebumps rippled up Athera’s arms. They had only been intimate once, long ago before she had become who she was now, fully apart of the Evanuris. She had wanted him then, she had wanted him all to herself for his love. Now she wanted him for want he could do for her, and what she knew she could do for him. She would never love him the way she might of in the early days of their friendship, but she could help him, protect him. She could be there for him.

“We could be have freedom…”

Solas kissed her then. His lips were barely touching hers, and he pulled away. He looked at her, his grey eyes burning. He smirked, and she knew that he understood her. He nodded, pulling away to lean back, “Alright then.” 

 

Athera gasped, flinching away from the man’s touch. She fell, dropping her staff and her barrier crumbing. “What the fuck was that?” She asked, her mind spun. The man crouched next to her, smiling.

“You’re interesting, you know that? I was touched, honestly by your feelings for Solas. He liked you, earnestly.” 

“Get away from me,” Athera snarled, casting frost by hand.

The spirit deflected it without much thought. “Don’t you see now? I have no intention of hurting you, Athera.” 

“I don’t trust you,” Athera hissed, “I still don’t know who you are.” Athera lounged for her staff but he was there too quickly, his foot trapping it to the ground. 

“Want,” He replied, coolly.

Athera looked up at him, agitated, “What?” 

“Nuvena,” He replied, “My name is Nuvena.” 

“Desire?”

He scoffed, “Isala is desire.” He let go of her staff and sat down on the steps. Resting chin on his hand before continuing, “Nuvena is want, Isala is desire. The difference matters a little bit. You don’t know your language well da’len.”

“Don’t call me da’len,” Athera snapped. She held the staff between them. Nuvena looked back at her, unimpressed. His amber eyes turned from her to her staff, studying it and smirked.

“That doesn’t suit you,” He said, “We’ll have to find you another one. You’ll break it if you do any real spell casting.” He reached out and touched the tip. It flared and burst into flames. 

She glared at him, throwing her staff away, “What do you want from me?” 

Nuvena smiled, not in a mocking way this time. “I need your help to get to Vunes Inan, in turn, I will help you get to Solas.” He leaned back, his expression serious, “I did open the eluvian at the Winter Palace, but I’m sure Solas has noticed. He will be checking his passwords. He is a cautious man now. We need hurry to find him.” Athera studied him trying to find the lie in his words. She didn’t trust him but he spoke in such a way, it made her want to. 

“You were a woman,” Athera said bluntly.

Nuvena snorted, “I-Well… Yes.” 

“And you married Solas?”

He smirked, “Jealous?” He barked out a laugh as Athera sputtered to refute his claim. “I wasn’t, no. It was very complicated. Everything is, now and then.” 

Athera eyed him, “Why help me?”

“You have a reason to want to help me,” Nuvena replied without a beat. 

“Why do you look like that? You look like a Tevinter.”

Nuvena cocked his head, thinking. “He was familiar to me.”

“You’re like Imshael, aren’t you?” 

Nuvena shook his head, looking slightly affronted. “Maybe the in way of being old, and a spirit but that qualifies your friend Cole as well. Imshael is different, not a normal spirit like Compassion or myself. Not only that he become a demon upon passing through the Veil, he was a Forbidden One. And you killed him. Great job.” 

Nuvena got to his feet and held out a hand to Athera, “I’d offer you wine, but I haven’t any. Would you take my hand instead?” 

Athera stared at his hand; she looked away, back at the lake and the wolf statue. She had no idea how she’d find Solas, and this man was offering her an option. She couldn’t trust him, but she could use him. She took his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
